


Of Guns and Needles

by Tiph



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Romance, cuteness, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiph/pseuds/Tiph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Kabby prompts and one shots.</p><p>Last chatper : Marcus spent his afternoon fangirling in Polis with Indra, with awful consequences.</p><p>1. First meeting : Abby and Marcus' first meeting as young kids, when he has to be innoculated.<br/>3. 5 Things Marcus Wanted to Tell Abby but Never Did<br/>6. Nightmare : Young Marcus has a nightmare of his father's death and goes to his mother for comfort.<br/>7. A Last Goodbye : Take on the 3x09 scene based on the trailer, Marcus and Abby share a moment before his execution</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> First prompt of many !  
> I've decided to create a prompt collection instead of uploading mini-fics everywhere, so here we go !
> 
> Prompt from the Kabby Valentine Challenge : Teenage Kabby kisses! Abby in the aftermath of Jake’s execution! Pre-series hate sex in the Council Chamber! OT3’s with Jake or Callie! Jealous Jaha! Anything set on the Ark prior to the events of the pilot is fair game.

It would be melodramatic to say that the first time he met her, she saved him. And yet. That's the way he had always thought about it, about that evening, about how she had taken his hand and led him away from the fears and doubts that ran deep in his mind. He never had to thank her for she knew already how much it meant to him, how much her smiles healed him every single time.

Innoculation day. Marcus Kane's most hated day ever. Sometimes it happened several times a year, specially for young children such as him, and 2114 had been one of those to his great despair. A confinement breach in a quarantined area, the announcement on the speaker brought tears to his eyes, putting an abrupt stop to the homework he was working on with his mother's help. He heard her sigh above him, the thought hit him that she most probably hated these days as much as he did, because of him. Every time he tried, he really did, to act like a grown up and not a crybaby like he had heard some of the older boys call him, so he fought back the lump in his throat and put on a brave face, which of course didn't fool Vera for a second. One of her hands was on his neck as she leaned forward and whispered in his ear to not worry, that they would deal with it later, and for the next hour she did her best to distract him from his dark thoughts.

They were the last ones in line. By the time they entered the room, Marcus was shaking so much he had trouble walking straight, but his arms were crossed on his tiny chest, doing his best to appear nonchalant about it and not succeeding well. A man he had never seen before greeted them, he had short brown hair and green, kind eyes that were smiling at him as the doctor crouched in front of him and introduced himself as Arthur Walters. The last few times they were in the room, another man had been the one to take care of Marcus, someone who had no patience for kids and even less for scared kids. It had hurt every time, a hell of a lot. He had grabbed his wrist and forced the torture tool in his arm without an ounce of compassion, railing because he couldn't find a vein and had to do it two or three times under the soft sobs of the son and the growing frown of the mother.

He remembered his manners when Vera nudged his shoulder, a sorry smile on his lips when he answered and told him his name, politeness always was a very important point for his mother, something that he did his best to not forget. It could be hard sometimes because he had an habit to get lost in thoughts and become oblivious to the rest of the world. Knowing perfectly well how the procedure worked, Marcus made his way slowly to the medical cot in the center of the room, looking every bit as if he were walking the plank.

''Why don't we make ourselves comfortable on the couch instead ?''

Surprised, he noticed for the first time that a small couch had found its way in a well lit corner, shabby but looked comfortable all the same. He sat down besides his mom, glad when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brough him closer to her. He leaned in her embrace, his head on her chest, and for a while he forgot his earlier resolutions about needing to grow up and stop relying on her that much. The doctor seemed very nice and wasn't at all like the kids at school who were always teasing him, he didn't judge him, rather he was looking at the pair with a genuine smile while he rolled a tray and a chair with him to sit in front of the boy.

''So Marcus, what's your favorite subject at school ?''

His eyes were focused on the syringe in Dr. Walters' hands who, when he noticed it, turned away from the prying look and hid it away from Marcus' sight, as he answered the question in a small voice.

''Earth Skills. I like Earth Skills. And History.''

''Really ? My daughter Abby, do you know her ? No ? She's a little bit younger than you, well anyway, she thinks it's boring, but then she doesn't have much patience, so I wouldn't take her word on it. She's still in her 'I don't like it so it's useless' phase.''

He didn't really listen to what he was saying – even though he should have, for he would learn the hard way how very little patience Abigail Walters had –, his heart was pounding so fast in his chest he was sure it could be heard all the way back to Farm Station, he knew the doctor was trying to distract him from what was going to happen but Marcus' only thought was on the hidden torture instrument. Vera joined in the happy chatter, explaining how she both teached History classes and took care of the Eden Tree, the pride in her voice unmistakable when she spoke of how much Marcus helped her during mass and relieved her a lot from her work of tending the religious symbol.

''I'm ready. Can you give me your arm, Marcus ?''

There it was, the moment his breathing reached a pace so quick he saw Dr. Walters exchange a worried look with his mother, maybe wondering if he was having a panic attack. He liked that the doctor was giving him a choice, even if he knew it wasn't really one since he would have to get innoculated one way or another, and didn't want to disappoint him, the man was nice and Marcus feared that he wouldn't want to take care of him next time if he didn't obey. However, his body had another idea and suddenly he couldn't hold back his tears anymore. He hid his face in Vera's chest the exact moment a first sob ripped through his throat, stress and shame taking the better of his control.

''You know, it's normal to be scared, I was too when I was about your age, and I think you're handling this way better than I did. I used to throw tantrums and kick everyone who would dare come too close. Once I even kicked the doctor where it hurts the most, after that the poor man was more afraid of me than I was of needles.''

A small smile made its way to his face, and even though they couldn't see it, Vera felt him relax slightly and gave a encouraging nod to Arthur, who kept coaxing him for a few minutes with stories and lame jokes. After a little while, Marcus turned his head back to the man, his face still stained with tears, his teeth chewing on his lower lip. He hesitated once more before finally giving in, his arm shook as he presented it for him to take it in his hands. Marcus didn't even hear his mother whisper to him how proud she was, his concentration on the man's beaming face who looked like he had just received the best birthday present ever. He rolled the child's sleeve up, a hand under his arm to keep it steady while he made sure that the vein wouldn't roll off under his thumb, he then took the syringe, checked that it worked and looked at Marcus.

''It's better if you don't watch, son.''

He didn't have the time the react, his mom did it for him and brought his face back on her chest, her mouth and nose pressed on his head as she worked to calm him with one of her hands forming soothing circles on his shoulder. It didn't take long. A moan escaped his lips when he felt the sting of the needle break through his skin, his first instinct was to jerk his arm back but thankfully the doctor had a firm hold on it and didn't let it move an inch, or else he'd have hurt himself pretty bad. He hated the pain. He hated that his arm would be sore for a few days afterwards. It hurt and there was nothing he could do about it.

''There, all done !''

He hadn't felt the needle get out of his skin, and when he opened his eyes and turned to have a look at his arm, he barely had the time to see a small drop of blood before it was covered by a white patch.

''You did great kiddo, really gr -''

''Dad ! You're done yet ? You promised you'd have a look at my project !''

All three heads turned to see a young girl barge in the room, her long blond wavy hair billowing in her run. Her big brown eyes were frowning at her father before she realized what she had just interrupted.

''Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – hey ! I've seen you around, you're in an older class, right ? Yes ? Then you can help me, come, come !''

Still pale from what he endured, and not yet used to the over energetic girl, Marcus didn't know how to react when she took his hand and forced him to follow her as she babbled over and over about the project she had to present to her agemates, about bones in the human body. He threw a desesperate look at his mother over his shoulder, whose only answer was a laugh and a hand sign for him to go with Abby Walters.

Five minutes later, he was laughing so much he had cramps in his stomach and tears of joy in his eyes. He had forgotten all about the vaccine and wouldn't think about it until his shower the next morning. He would never know if she had planned it or it was a pure accident, but it quickly became a ritual. After every single innoculation she would take his hand and take him away from the medical room, her smile made him feel better, it lit up her face and made butterflies fly in his stomach.

Thirteen years later, when Arthur Walters died of an incurable disease, Abby took his place and became his appointed doctor, one hand still and forever clasped in his.


	2. Starters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First - Angst - "I'm going to take care of you, okay" ?  
> Second - Humor - "The planet is fine. The people are fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two prompt starters that I did a while ago but never posted on AO3, they're both pretty short so I decided to post them in the same chapter, so here you go !

**''I'm going to take care of you, okay ?''**

An empty promise. She knew he couldn't hear her, knew he was too far gone. The sound of her own voice reassured her, it felt like talking to a patient, a responding patient on the road to recovery. A coping mechanism, as one might be tempted to call it. Her way of not crumbling under the pressure, when her work became too personal, when her feelings became one with her actions, when it became too dangerous for her to keep going, when she cared too much

There was another voice she longed to hear. His half-closed eyes stared accusingly at her, unblinking and glassy, surrounded by pale, cold and clammy skin she was afraid to touch. The lips she hadn't kissed in ages were now chapped and devoid of any color. Blood loss, dehydration, irregular heartbeat, the list could go on for a while.

She hadn't seen the signs. The smile she had plastered on her face faltered for a second only, she held on, took a deep, shivering breath, the mask once again firmly in place. For his sake, or for her, she didn't know. It hurt and it helped, there was still hope.

In truth, she had ignored the signs. Her trained eyes had noticed things that should have concerned her, alarmed her, and yet she unconsciously decided not to act. Not to help him. Why, she didn't know, or didn't want to know. It was too late now. Damage had already been done. Damage that was hers to fix.

Bandages covered his wrists but the ever so persistent blood kept seeping through it. She applied extra pressure with her hands, her knuckles white with the strength she used to block the flow and keep it inside him, where it belonged, not soaking his clothes, not smeared on his fingers and his arms. She let her thumb run slowly and softly on the back of his hand, forming calming circles on his skin.

He was ready to let go, but she wasn't. She would never be.

''When you wake up, and not if, I'm going to kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a whole month. Mark my words.''

The ghost of a smile appeared on his face at the same time a lone tear escaped his eye.

 

* * *

 

**''The planet is fine. The people are fucked.''**

She huffed. He was insufferable. They had been at it for almost thirty minutes and none of them was ready to back off. Both as stubborn as each other.

''How can you be so cynical ? There's always hope.''

''Not for them. They are doomed.''

His lips were set in a thin line of displeasure but his eyes blazed with renewed determination. Every one of his muscles was contracted, ready to jump at the first sign of aggression, ready to fight back. He wouldn't give them the chance. The best form of defence is attack. Tears would fall, blood would flow, heads would roll.

''You are _not_ going to war, Marcus.''

''Why not ? They started it !''

There it was, that annoying whine in his voice and the pout on his mouth. As advertised, Marcus Kane, both 42 and 5 years old.

''My men are to be avenged.''

''Your pride is to be avenged, you mean. I think you lost it in the battlefiled along with your common sense.''

He made a face, sticking out his tongue at her, but his focus remained on the object in front of him. Bitterness was all over his handsome features, he had to think this through. Establish a plan, a strategy that would ensure an outstanding victory. Tears would fall, blood would flow, heas would roll.

''Admit it, you're a sore loser.''

He looked at the TV screen, where the words _Game Over_ floated under the name Star Wars : Battlefront.

 

 


	3. 5 things Marcus wanted to tell Abby but never did

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the celebration of my one year blog on Tumblr, prompt marathon.
> 
> "5 things marcus wanted to tell abby but never did" asked by akachankami. (I know you love drabbles, so here you go !)

He hadn't known the fierce little Abby Walters for long, but if there was one thing that he had acknowledged pretty quickly was how passionate she could be when arguing. He respected that, really, in fact, he loved it, and sometimes he would intentionally say something that he was sure would set her off, just to see her pace in her room, waving her arms in outrage.

One day, she asked him why. _You're cute when you're mad_ , he decided then, was a line that he should never cross, he liked his head where it was, thank you very much.

* * *

 

_I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this._

He couldn't help it. The more Abby kissed him, the more distasteful he felt. The precious woman was straddling his lap, her tongue playing with his, grinding her body against him. He hated himself for the pleasure he felt, he didn't deserve anything she gave him, specially after everything he had done to her and their people.

She must have noticed something was off, because for a moment she stopped moving to cup his cheeks.

''You okay, Marcus ?''

He smiled. A fake smile. For her.

_I don't deserve this._

''I'm fine.''

* * *

 

 ''Why yes, I am as think as you drunk I am.''

The laugh that suddenly erupted from his throat made a few heads turn towards them. He didn't care. Seeing and hearing Abby Griffin being completely wasted on moonshine was so rare he had to make the most of it. He might have been a little bit tipsy himself but it was nothing compared to the state she was in. Inestimable blackmail material.

_You should go to sleep._

No, bad idea. Maybe he would get her to agree to a few things now, so much potential...

''Want another drink ?''

* * *

 

She knew how much he dreaded needles, she wanted to make it easier for him. She stroked his hair, whispered soothing words in his ear and cradled his head on her chest. The high fever made him delirious and so weak he struggled to keep his eyes open.

_Please, just let me die. Please._

He didn't know what kept him from saying it, perhaps it was the hand that never leaved his sweat-covered chest, or the tearful look she swept over him as she got the injections ready. Three per day. Shaking, he wanted to beg her, but he didn't.

* * *

 

He was about to crouch down and enter the hidden tunnel when he turned around and, without any warning, kissed her. It wasn't sweet and gentle, but rough and urgent, desesperate.

 _I love you_ , he wanted, he needed to tell her. He didn't have the time, guards were hot on their trail and could barge in the room at any second. He was a man of action and this time was no different.Her reaction was quick. She opened her lips to him and leaned in the lustful embrace.

He didn't have to say it. She knew. She loved him too.


	4. Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Could you please recommend/Write a Kabby pregnancy fan fiction?" prompt

I.

It took him a full minute for her words to hit his brain. Another one for the shock to subside and his lungs to work again. He blinked a few times. No, she was still here. Ha wasn't hallucinating. The expectant smile on her face was still there, so was the bulge on her stomach. How he could have missed it when he got back from his month long mission several minutes ago was a mystery, but to be fair his focus was more set on thos marvellous lips of hers and on kissing them as long as he could until breathing became an issue.

Yet, here it was. He placed his hand on her belly, feeling the warmth of the skin through her shirt, and was almost disappointed when he didn't feel the light thump he was waiting for. Too soon, a voice whispered to him, too soon...

''For real ?''

It made her laugh. He loved her laugh, it always came straight from her heart.

''Yes Marcus, for real.''

Then he did something neither of them could have expected. In one swift movement, he sprung into action and launched himself at her. His plan to kiss her with all his might quickly backfired when he realized that the petite woman wouldn't be able to support his weight. They fell in a tangle of limbs on their bed, laughing awkwardly like a couple of teenagers on their first date.

 

II.

They both watched Jackson move the ultrasound monitor on Abby's belly with growing trepidation. Today was the day. Or, one of the days. Her hand gripped his so tightly he couldn't feel his fingers anymore, not that he would have noticed anyway, his mind was set on only one single thing at the moment, the heartbeat monitor.

However, as overjoyed as he had been when Abby told him about the pregnancy, the closer the date of childbirth, the more mixed feelings he had been having. The happiness was now mixed with doubt and apprehension. Abby already had experience, she knew what was normal and what wasn't, whereas he was left in the dark wondering if he would ever be fit to be a father.

To be a _father_.

The word itself was still foreign to his brain. Abby was a mother, but he, a father ? He didn't know the first thing about how a father was supposed to be, he never had the chance to know his, and that scared him a lot more than he was ready to admit.

''Ready ?''

No, of course he wasn't ready, what a stupid question. What he felt ready for however, was to run away as fast as he could from the room, if only Abby's hand wasn't so firmly clasped in his. The glare he sent Jackson told the man to hurry the hell up and stop beating around the bush, and thank god it worked.

When they heard the first heartbeat, it felt like his own had stopped. He didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe, it was all too surreal. It was Abby's sob of joy that brought him back to reality. The beats were faster than he thought they would be, but Jackson assured him that it was normal and that the baby appeared to be in perfect health.

The baby. His, their baby.

 

III.

''How does someone even lives in that thing ?''

''I'll have you know, Marcus Kane, that _that thing_ happens to be my body. You seemed to quite like it yesterday night.''

He chuckled. The wonders of female anatomy never ceased to amaze him. During the last three months he had seen Abby's body slowly change to adapt to the life that was _brewing_ inside of her. They were both lazing in bed, neither of them wanting to end the simple but heavenly moment. Marcus' ear was on Abby's prominent belly, listening to every beat and thump with an expression of pure awe on his face.

It had taken time, but he had come to terms with the all parenthood thing that awaited him. Sure, there were still moments of doubts, but overall he was more excited than anything to welcome Kabby Junior – as Raven had taken to call the baby – into this world.

Abby's hand was in his hair, stroking slow patterns on his skull while she ate the strawberries he had struggled to find in this season.

A loud thump made him gasp in delight as Abby winced from the strength of the kick. She pulled his hair slightly in retaliation for his obvious joy when she was the one to feel the full power of it, which only resulted in a brighter smile on his face. Nothing could spoil his good mood.

''I'm sure you won't mind being on diaper duty for the first two months then.''


	5. Inner Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heyyy! could you write a one shot of abby being upset and marcus comforting her with these details: "do you want me to leave?" "no" "do you want to talk about it?" "no" .. "what can i do?" "you just being here helps", by an anon on Tumblr.

He sighed in relief when the rover was parked in the hangar. It had been five days of never ending negociations with Trikru, with only naps taken in between arguments and agreements, he was in serious need of a shower and a bed. The corridors were empty at this hour of the night, his quick steps echoing in the dark. He was almost running at this point.

He didn't know what stopped him from opening the door of his quarters. A gut feeling, maybe. It didn't matter much though, because instead of jumping on his bed like his muscles were screaming at him, he kept walking. He kept walking, until he came to another closed door, to another quarters. He hadn't been in there in a while, mainly because its occupant spent her time in Medical or in the Chancellor's office. He knocked on the door. It was stupid, he thought, she was probably asleep and he would find her in a panicked state because she'd think there were an emergency that needed her medical skills or her orders as a Chancellor.

He shrugged. After all, he never was known for his smart moves with women. The door opened just a crack, just enough for him to see her small frame behind it. She cleared her throat.

''I didn't know you were back.''

''Just a few minutes ago. Is this a bad time? Do you want me to leave ?'' 

''No.''

She opened the door a bit more and walked back inside without another word. It worried him. When he had left camp she had been okay – or, as okay as anyone could be lately –, and he wondered if something had happened during his absence or if it was the weight of everything that finally came crashing down on her shoulders. He followed her as she sat on her bed, head down, her hair falling in front of her face, hiding her anguished features from him. An awkward silence stretched for a few minutes, 

''Do you want to talk about it ?''

''No.''

He squirmed uncomfortably, at loss for words. If there was one thing that Marcus Kane was awful at, it was comforting people. He didn't know how to use words to help people feel people, no matter how much he cared and tried, sadly it was something that he hadn't inherited from his mother.

''What can I do ?''

Lame, a voice whispered in his head, you should know what do to without having to ask. If the situation was reversed, she would know exactly how to make him feel better.

''You just being here helps.''

He smiled slightly at that. Words wouldn't work, but actions could. He hesitated a moment, but decided to go with it, and wrapped a tentative arm around her shoulders. When she didn't draw back from his touch, he went further and brought her head to his left shoulder, his hand going back and forth on her arm in a comforting gesture.

Neither of them moved for a long while. Time stopped, but he was still exhausted and struggled more and more to keep his eyes opened. Her weight on him had become so familiar that for a moment he forgot she was here, lost in his thoughts. He listened to her steady breathing, she had fallen deep asleep on him. Marcus dared not move, afraid to wake her, she obviously needed the rest and he was sure she wouldn't go back to sleep one awake. But he was so tired... He blinked a few times, his eyes stung, this was a battle he couldn't win. Sending a prayer to every God who might be listening that she wouldn't wake up, he very slowly let the both of them to fall back on the bed until their heads hit the matress.

She murmured something in her sleep. His breath caught in his throat, it was almost as if his heart stopped beating for a moment, afraid that he was to make a single noise. Her eyes remained closed, and he felt her curl up to his side before giving to sleep himself.


	6. Nightmare

His brown eyes snapped open. His lungs were desesperately trying to draw in as much air as possible, his breathing coming in quick and shallow gasps. He sat up, his young body shaking with distress, unable to calm down, unable to stop the memory of his nightmare to flood and invade his mnd. It had been barely a few days since his father was floated for treason, barely a few days since he managed to get past the surveillance of his teacher and sneak in the air lock chamber, barely a few days since he watched the air sucked out of his father and his corpse thrown into space.

The chamber kept haunting him. He felt the hands holding him down, tasted blood and tears as the bit the inside of his cheek, but none of these compared to the vision of his mother, eyes red and pleading, mouth open in a silent scream of pain, terror etched in every one of her features.

What if... He needed to be sure. He needed to know she was alright. It was all just a dream, a harmless dream, it didn't mean anything, right ? It couldn't. She had to be alright. What was is that his mom once said to him ? Do not overthink dreams, my son, for they are visions of your heart ; sometimes God comes at night and whispers words in your ear, listen, do not fight, let them fill your mind. The cold hit his bare feet as soon as he put the covers aside and stepped out of his bed. The soft sound of his small steps was the only thing to be heard in the apartement as he quickly moved towards the other room and came to a halt in front of the door, teeth chewing on his bottom lip, one hesitant hand over the knob.

His face scrunched up as his heartbeat picked up speed again, he felt trpped inside his own body, unable to make up his mind, unable to make a move. A step back. Why was he so afraid ? He didn't understand, he didn't want to understand for he feared the answer to his own question. Would it hurt more to know that it hadn't been a mere dream, more than to ignore the possible truth that layed behind the closed door ?

"Mom..."

Was is his voice that sounded so hoarse and weak ? Who was he pleading to ? Praying ? The wetness on his cheeks kept sliding down his face, drops stopping on his lips, others landing on his chin and onto his shirt. Lost, he was lost. He should go back to his room. Act like it never happened. It, the floating and the dream. Nightmare. He shook his head violently, tried to clear his mind from all the intrusive and unwelcome thoughts that plagued him.

A hand interrupted his movement. On his cheek, soft, warm skin against his. Another on his shoulder, grounding him to the world.

"Marcus ? Honey, hey, I'm here."

"Mom ?"

He brushed his fingers against her hand. She was real. Alive. Reassured and yet still frightened, he couldn't hold back his sobs and soon he was crying so much his head began to ache and his body to shake.

Arms were wrapped around him, she hug him with all her might, a need anchor. He breathed in the familiar and comforting scent, welcoming the immediate effect it had on his strained muscles, it was wonderful how much influence such a trivial detail could have on him. No one else could, and ever would, make him feel that way, of that he was sure.

"I'm so scared..."

"I'm scared too."

Her words whispered in his ear made him shiver, because then, who would be here to support him ? They only had each other to rely on now, the people on the Ark could be merciless sometimes, he had learned it the hard way, and it frightened him to no end. She didn't have sweet, soothing words to sell him, the only reason being that she wasn't sure herself how they would be able to make it work. She had lost a part of her soul that fateful day, a part that she would never get back, and yet she had to put her pain aside, to ignore it and focus on her son's well being. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Feeling his weight on her when she picked him up made a sad smile appear on her lips. Soon, too soon, he would be too old to be carried, she knew she would miss the pleasure of walking with his heard buried in the crook of her neck, with his chest against hers and his hair tickling her face.

He didn't utter a word as she went back to her room and carefully laid down on her bed. On her side, she kept her arms around Marcus, and brought him closer to her, one hand coming up to stroke his hair, something she knew always helped him fall asleep.

He hung to the arm around his torso, intending to never let go. He felt warm, at home. He closed his eyes, gently rocked by her breathing and the soft humming of a lullaby.

 


	7. A Last Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My take on what could happen in the moment Marcus and Abby share in 3x09 before his execution.

When she heard the news, her first reaction was denial. There was no way, no way, this could be happening. Not to him. Not to her. Not again. She clenched her jaw, her hands balled into tight fists, a deep breath and she was out of the room in a split second. Every step echoed in the corridors, Arkadia was strangely silent, rumors spread very quickly and by now the whole camp must have known about the arrest. Locking up grounders was one thing, but their own people was another matter, it wouldn't take long for men and women to realize the truth and consequences that such actions could entail, or so she hoped.

She walked straight to the Chancellor's office, no detour, no small talks, people backed away from her path, armed guards and harmless citizens alike, and past the two men posted outside the door who tried to hold her back in vain.

''What the hell is wrong with you ?''

Her voice was steady, demanding, she didn't falter, proud of the iron mask she had on her face, she was shaking inside but controlled on the outside, and that was what mattered against a person like this poor excuse of a man. He had his back turned to her, and took his time in turning around, making sure to hide the map he was working on away from her prying eyes. She didn't care.

With an immense satisfaction, she noticed the bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek.

''What happened ?''

She knew a small smile had made its way up her lips, but she couldn't help it. It felt good. A sadistic pleasure, she knew that, but with everything that happened she had to embrace every little moment of joy.

''Kane happened.''

A pause. A swell of pride in her heart.

''Good. I hope it hurts.''

He chuckled at that. The man was infuriating.

''Where are your medical morals, Doctor Griffin ?''

''Sentenced to death.''

He took a step forward. He still had a lot of work to do if he hoped to one day intimidate her ; dealing wih Marcus Kane on a daily basis on the Ark had been the best training one could ever hope to receive. She looked him in the eyes. Pike was a bully, nothing more, nothing less. While she understood the reasons of the mistrust between him and the grounders, she couldn't stand the way his narrow minded brain seemed to work.

''You think I want this ? You think I want to lock up and kill my own ? I'm not the bad guy here. I'm only doing what it takes to keep us safe, and if I have to make sacrifices along the way, then so be it.''

She didn't know how to answer. There was nothing to answer. Words would never make him change his mind, she knew that.

''I want to see him.''

''So that you can work with him on a way to help him escape ? This is not happening, and you know it.''

The pressure behind her eyes increased. She couldn't break, not now, not in front of him.

She was the one to take another step. Their chests were almost touching,

''Let me see him, or I swear to God, grounders will be the least of your problems. People are already asking questions. How many rebellions do you think you can handle before losing that pin you are so fond of ?''

His eyes hardened. He nodded.

''Do not mistake my generosity for weakness, Griffin.''

* * *

She waited until she heard the _click_ of the door behind the retreating guards to walk closer to him.

He had lost weight. That's the first thought that hit her. It had only been over a day since she'd last seen him, but now that her whole focus was on him, she couldn't help but notice it. The rebellion was taking its toll on him, that much was obvious, and until then she hadn't realized just how much. Working against his own people, it was eating him from the inside. For someone who had been adamant about following rules and laws for decades, she couldn't imagine what it was doing to him to be considered a traitor to the people he'd gladly give his life for.

He looked behind him, probably to make sure that no one was listening, before leaning forward to whisper words that she should have seen coming.

''I don't think Pike's listening, so here's the plan. You keep stirring trouble, go see Nate and Harper, they'll know what - ''

''Marcus -''

''Try to contact Octavia, we - _you_ have to know more about that blockade.''

''Marcus.''

''Then there's Bellamy, there's still good in him, Abby, he still can be reached, you try -''

''Damn it, Marcus, shut up !''

The silence that followed was uncomfortable to say the least. She had ran the words over and over in her head, trying to come up with what she could say to him, but her mind was blank. What was there to say ? Goodbye ? See you in another life ? With a sigh, she walked away from him and went to stand in front of the small window. Outside, the sun was shining, and she could see the back of one of the small gardens that belonged to everyone. She knew that Marcus loved to go there sometimes, he rarely had the time to take care of the Tree back in the forest, so he often opted to help farmers plant and grow food.

A deep breath.

''I didn't come here to talk about whatever plans you might have, honestly I just...''

She turned back around. He hadn't moved, not an inch, but what scared was the expression on his face. Or, the lack of it. There was no frown, no tight set of his jaw, nothing. It was the mask he used to wear on the Ark, when he didn't want anyone to know what he was feeling, and that most probably included himself. He had a way of detaching himself from his emotions that had always scared her, something that she thought had disappeared a while after the crash on Earth. She was wrong, and it hurt. It hurt to think that there were still times when he didn't feel comfortable enough around her to let her _see_ him.

''I needed to see you.''

He bit his lip for sole answer. Damn that man, he was definitely not going to make it any easier for her. She closed the distance between them. His scent was familiar, of the forest scented soap he had traded a few weeks ago with one of the kids against a airplane model made of metal scaps, tainted with a faint smell of sweat, and it felt good to be so close to him again. Over the last months, the personal space boundaries between them – which used to be of a least a few meters away, let's be honest – had slowly disappeared to the point where she had become way too used to his presence against her ; sitting in front of the fire, sitting closer than they needed to be, _accidental_ touches here and there.

''I won't let this happen to you.''

The little intake of breath was all she needed to know he was going to be stubborn. His brown eyes bored into her ; he knew.

''I am not Jake.''

She expected to be angry at these words, she probably should be, but she wasn't. She wasn't, for she knew the man before her wasn't in a right state of mind, he wasn't even looking at her anymore but at his shaking handcuffed fists.

He was afraid.

She tried to put on a reassuring smile for him, but it didn't work, she couldn't muster the energy to pretend everything was going to be fine, so instead she tipped his chin up until his eyes met hers, her thumb slowly tracing the outline of the thin lips she had thought so often about kissing. Her hand then moved to cup his cheek, soon joined by the other, mirroring their position from a few days before.

As one, they moved, their foreheads now touching, skin against skin, lips mere inches apart. She could feel his shaky breath on her face, eyes closed, taking in the moment as much as he could.

''Did you hear me, Marcus ? I will _not_ let you die.''

He nodded. He nodded, but his eyes told her that he didn't believe a word of what she was saying and, she realized, neither did she. She was making promises she knew she wouldn't be able to keep, and he knew it too. That's when her control slipped. The finality of all of it catching up with her, tears fell down her cheeks, there was no point on holding back. A first sob ripped her throat.

She felt him tug on the hem of her shirt, urging her closer to him, which she did with an eagerness there was no point in hiding, a sad smile on her lips when she slipped her arms under his and put her head on his chest, his hands on her waist.

Her sobs muffled by the fabric of his shirt began to subside slowly as she felt his lips on the top of her head, kissing her, before resting his cheek on her hair. It felt good, it felt immensely good.

Too soon, they had to break away from each other when a fist pounded against the door. She took a step back, her eyes shut close against the emotions that threatened to overwhelmed her all over again.

''Time's over !''

He brushed his thumb against her cheek, wiping her tears away with a smile. One last smile. For her. One last touch.

The door was slammed open and two guards grabbed his arms, yanking him away from the room.

''Abby, promise me you won't -''

''I can't, I'm sorry.''

His distressed face and teary eyes were the last things she saw before he was out of her sight.In a way, she was glad he couldn't hear the words she whispered to the empty cell.

''I won't do anything that you wouldn't have done.''


	8. Look, mommy

The front door of the quarters was slammed open against the metallic wall, a loud creak followed right after, the unstable, and only, shelf of the room was close to falling down again, barely a week before it was fixed and put back on. She sighed in disbelief, tired of repeating the same things over and over to her son,  _do not slam doors_ , how hard of a concept was it to grasp ? The boy really seemed to hang to his bad habits ; only 6 years old and already with a temper worth of a bitter old man.

His feet stomped on the floor, he stormed in the room. What a sight. His schoolbag was hanging off one shoulder, small patches of skin visible through the holes in his grey shirt and matching jacket, his untamed hair all over the place, face red because of his run, and full of anguish. Vera barely had the time to set down the pair of trousers she was sewing, the idea of scolding her son long gone, before he crossed the few meters that separated them and jumped in her arms. Sobs he had been holding back for no one to see now ripping through his tiny body shaking with exertion, he hold on for dear life at her neck, his arms wrapped around her with an iron grip.

The distress of her son almost brought tears to her own eyes. The tremors that shook his frame echoed in her own flesh, his nose was pressed against her shoulder, his dark locks tickling her ear as he cried his heart out. Careful not to move him too much, she took off the bag of his shoulder and let it drop on the floor. She hugged him back with all her might, whispered soothing sounds coming out of her lips like a song that one would know by heart, every fluctuation of the voice, every note, his weight against her the most familiar feeling in the world.

Seconds, then minutes went by before any of them moved a muscle. The sobs slowly died down until there were only a few spasms left to run through his body, face still hidden in the crook of her neck, one of her hands drawing calming circles on his back.

 ''Do you want to talk about it ?''

 The word, whispered in his ear, elicited no answer from the boy, so she softly shrugged her shoulder to make him react, feeling him finally nod against her. He moved his head towards her, but kept his arms firmly around her, he needed the contact, she realized as a warm feeling washed over her, he needed her just as much as she needed him.

''I'm dying, mommy.''

Not that she was expecting anything, with a son like Marcus you learn early to stop being surprised at every sentence, but this was not something that she thought she would  _ever_ hear from her little boy's mouth. It took her a moment to react. She shifted a little bit so that she could watch his tear strained face, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip ; she took his chin in her hand to stop him, and made him look at her, eyes red.

 ''Why ? Why do you think you're dying ?''

 She felt his chin tremble in her hand and knew what was going to happen before a sob made him bury his face in her neck again, his grip tightening around her for the second time that day. She sighed as he began crying again, his chest was raising and falling at an alarming pace for a 6 year old, never letting go of her. It was almost like he was afraid that should he release his grasp she would get up and leave him alone to deal with whatever was eating at him. Vera was at a loss of what to do, usually a nice hug was enough to calm Marcus down, and it was worrying her that now it didn't seem to have much effect on the panic that seized him.

 ''Marcus, honey, I need to know what's wrong, so that I can make it better. Remember when you told me about the nightmare you had the other night, and how it felt better afterwards ?''

She always hated how much Marcus was prone to nightmares, many nights when she checked on him before going to sleep herself she would find him whimpering in his bed, tangled in a mess of sheets, and more often than not it ended with him sleeping in her arms either in his room or hers. It was frightening to see the impact that his ever growing imagination had on his mind, the kind of horrors that he could come up with would scare children and adults alike.

 ''Mfalinpart.''

 It took her a few precious seconds to realize that the sound wasn't a chocked sob but a failed attempt at talking.

 ''I didn't get that, breathe through your mouth, and try again honey, come on.''

He raised his head, enough that his voice wouldn't be muffled by the fabric of her shirt, but somehow made sure that it still rested on her shoulder. She heard him sniff a few times, his nose stuffy after crying for so long, and take a deep breath.

 ''I'm falling apart.''

The words were said in a little, shy and hoarse voice, but with a fatality attached to it that sent chills up her spine. If anything, it confused her even more. There was no uncertainity, no doubt whatsoever, he seemed so sure of what he was saying that Vera began to feel a wave of worry crept up her heart.

''I'm going to see daddy soon.''

A lump in her throat, her eyes swelled with tears. Marcus barely had the time to know his father before he was floated, but the deceased man still held a lot of importance in the boy's eyes, who strived to live up to the ideal of a ghost. She looked down when she felt him snuggle closer to her, he scratched his forehead on her shirt, the shadow of a smile on her lips when her eyes traced his toddler-like features, she half-expected him to put his thumb in his mouth like he used to do every night a little less than a year ago. He moved one of his arms until his fist was in front of them, his tiny hand balled tightly.

 ''Look, mommy.''

Finger by finger, his fist opened to reveal a small object in the center. He had a tooth in his palm. A small, white tooth. A little drop of blood was besides it, a striking contrast on his pale hand, where she guessed the cutting part had bitten his skin because of the too strong grip he had kept on it.

''Charles told me I'm falling apart. That it begins with a tooth and then it's your fingers, your legs, until there's just your chest and your head left. But... I don't want to die.''

The last part was said in a low murmur, barely loud enough to be heard. She did hear it, though her brain took its time in processing the information. Dumbstruck. There was no other word to describe how she felt at that moment. Relieved, too. Relieved that it wasn't a life-threatening issue like she had begun to fear.

''It must hurt real bad, I don't want it to hurt, mommy, I'm scared.''

A shiver ran through his body. Her first answer was to kiss the top of his head, repeatedly, from his hair that smelled like the shampoo special for kids that didn't sting the eyes, to his forehead, she cupped his face, her thumb wiping away the moisture on his cheeks, to make sure that she had his full attention, that he was going to listen to every word she had to say. She pecked him one last time, on the nose.

''You're not falling apart, Marcus. No, listen to me. You are  _not_ falling apart, and you are  _not_ dying. You lost a tooth, it's normal, it happens to everyone at your age. I lost my first tooth when I was 5, and you see, I'm still whole. Other teeth will grow, it means that you're getting bigger and soon you'll be taller than me.''

His delighted giggle was worth every tear in the world. The sound was like music to her ears, his smile was enough to brighten the darkest of rooms, and to hear him laugh always felt like butterflies were flying in her stomach. A wicked idea coming to her mind, she reached behind him and began to tickle his sides, where she knew his weak spot was. Just as she had excpected it, his childish laughter erupted from his throat, loud and open, filling the room with limitless happiness. He was squirming uncontrollably on her lap, so much that he almost fell down, tears of joy running down his cheeks, trying to beg her to stop between hiccups. Her own laugh joined his, and she stopped, giving him the time needed to catch his breath, she could hear his heartbeat bump against his chest, buzzing as he was with excitement.

She waited until he settled back correctly on her knees, rolling her eyes when he wiped his nose on his sleeve, to adress the last point she had to make on the question.

''Feel around with your tongue, I'm sure you'll find another tooth that's moving a little bit. Yes ? See, it's okay.''

She smiled when he nodded vigorously, strands of hair falling in front of his face, she brushed them back behind his ears thinking that he was long due for a haircut. However, another thought was on her mind, of another young boy, about three years older, who loved messing with her son, and she vowed to herself to have a word with his parents ; she was fine with teasing, but Charles Pike had taken it a step too far. She already knew that she wouldn't get much sleep this night, that she would have to watch over Marcus for the nightmare that would without a doubt plague his sleep in several hours.

Marcus shifted on her lap until he was on his knees, his face in front of hers, and kissed her cheek, a loud and wet kiss.

''Thank you mommy, you're the best mommy in the whole entire world.''

He then threw his arms around her neck and hugged her. She wrapped her own arms around his back, glad that he couldn't see the tears shine in her eyes, the pride and love unmistakable in her voice shaking with emotion.

''I love you, son.''


	9. Won Seidgeda, Fai Gou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus spent his afternoon fangirling in Polis with Indra, with awful consequences.

The sounds that were coming from the bathroom almost made her turn around and run back to medical. She was dealing with her fair share of sick and wounded, and if Marcus could stop getting in some kind of trouble every two days it would be of great help, as much for his well-being as for hers. Actually, specially for hers. With a resigned sigh, she pushed the door open, and here he was, Chancellor Marcus Kane in all his glory, head in the toilets.

“I’m dying, Abby…”

That’s how she knew he would be fine. Now free of worries, she crouched down next to him and made him raise his head with a finger under his chin. Admittedly, he didn’t look very good ; his pale and yellowish skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and yet he had beads of sweat on his forehead, and it all gave her a pretty good idea of what might be the problem.

“Have you eaten anything in Polis ?”

His guilty expression told her all she needed to know.

“Damn it Marcus, how many times have I told you to _not_ eat food given by strangers ?”

The argument on his lips was very quickly replaced by something else before he had the time to get the words out, and he found himself throwing up once again, body shaking with huge tremors. It lasted for a while, making Abby wonder just how much he had stuffed his stomach with weird, unusual food, how a man could be so intelligent and so stupid at the same time would never fail to amaze her.

When he was done, she helped him get up, stopping by the sink to rinse his mouth, and they slowly walked to their bed. As soon as his body touched the mattress he curled into a ball, arms around his stomach, eyes closed, and taking deep breaths to try to fight the waves of nausea. For the second time this evening, Abby sighed, though this time a little bit of fondness managed to get pass through the exasperation as she took off his shoes before sitting next to him.

“At least take off your pants, you’ll feel better without them.”

A moan.

“I can’t…”

She rolled her eyes. Even when sick with the flu as a child, Clarke wasn’t half that bad, and that was saying a lot. So, she went to work, she undid the zipper and, _oh miracle_ , he lifted his hips to help her take his pants all the way down.

“See, I knew you loved to undress me.”

How she longed to wipe that cheeky smile off his face… _In due tim_ e, she thought, _it will all come in due time_. For now, she settled with a deadly glare, but it didn’t work as she hoped, for he still had his eyes closed, so she pinched his thigh in retaliation, and lay down beside him.

“I can’t believe that you still haven’t learned you can’t stomach lots of grounder food, our bodies are still used to the small rations, which, by the way, are all you’re going to eat for the next few days, you can’t expect to eat so much and feel good afterwards.”

“But it’s not fair. And it’s all Indra’s fault. Not mine.”

“Did Indra shove it down your throat ? No ? Then stop blaming her, you’re 42, Marcus, not 5.”

“It’s not what she did, but what she said…”

_“Kane, come here, there is something you have to try.”_

_Marcus happily stepped away from the old model train he was having fun with, and walked to the stand where Indra was talking with a man. In a big bowl just inches from them were about six or seven snakes, living snakes, slithering around each other, and before Marcus had the time to ask a question, Indra was handing him a very small glass with a reddish liquid inside, and something he couldn’t identify at the bottom._

_“Drink up. Quickly, while it’s still beating.”_

_“What’s that ? And what is still beating ?”_

_The man sent him one of these looks, the kind of look that clearly make you understand how stupid your questions are. That’s when it dawned on him, what was inside his glass._

_“Are you kidding me ? You want me to drink - eat a snake’s heart ? Still beating ?”_

_“Won seidgeda, fai gou.”_

_One night, five times._

_Indra’s small smirk helped him a lot to understand what kind of “times” it was about._

_“For the record, I absolutely don’t need this. Not at all. Like, you know, I’m just curious. That’s all. Curiosity.”_

He didn’t tell Abby any of this however, obviously his mastermind plan had backfired. It had been more of a _One night, Throw up five times_ for him than anything else ; Abby _did_ take off his pants, but not with the same results as he had hoped in the afternoon.


End file.
